Rose’s knees and fingertips  are tingling. It could be the broken shock absorbers on Pete’s  jeep or the horrible roads in this part of Norway, but Rose knows  better. The feeling is the same she used to get just before  the Doctor threw open the TARDIS doors onto an alien vista, and they dove headfirst into the closest available trouble.
Yep, definitely the same tingles. This means, to her very clear-headed thinking, that an adventure is about to begin.
She still hears his voice. Rose. It’s a soft exhale in her ear, his limbs tangled with hers, his fingers cool against her scalp as he strokes her hair. Rose. Like their last night before Canary Wharf, full of slow, shared breath  and touching lips. Bodies curved together like a fortress, fending off the besieging lies of the beast in the pit.
Rose.
He’s found a way through. He’s found a way to bring her home to the  TARDIS — of course he has, because he’s the Doctor. It’s what he does, the impossible man in his impossible box.
Her mum has a deathgrip on her hand, which isn’t helping the tingles.  Afraid to let go. Always afraid to let go. But Jackie hasn’t argued this time,  not once. She’s got Pete and the baby, she’s got  responsibilities in this universe, and Rose has responsibilities with the Doctor,  and both women understand each other. Jackie will let go when the time  comes.
Rose leans over to Mickey, sitting beside her in the backseat. Bouncing beside her, really, on this godforsaken road. “Sure  you don’t want to come with, Mick? I know the Doctor won’t mind.”
He gives her a tight smile and shakes his head. “Nah. Can’t leave my Gran.”
From the front seat, Pete announces, “We’re here.”
It’s a cold, gray beach, full of chattering gulls and pounding  surf. Empty. But his voice is still there, somehow, whispering across  her mind like fingers stroking skin. Goosebumps prick her from scalp  to toes and she closes her eyes. The roar of the ocean almost sounds  like the thrumming pulse of the TARDIS.
She opens her eyes and grins at Jackie. “I don’t know why I  bothered to pack my bag. Everything I need is already with him, anyway.” Her toothbrush drying in the cup beside his sink, her trainers gathering dust under his bed.
She leaves  her suitcase in the car. There are goodbyes. Hugs and tears, promises to keep safe.
Rose walks to the middle of the empty beach, alone, and waits for him.
Home.

Rose’s knees and fingertips are tingling. It could be the broken shock absorbers on Pete’s jeep or the horrible roads in this part of Norway, but Rose knows better. The feeling is the same she used to get just before the Doctor threw open the TARDIS doors onto an alien vista, and they dove headfirst into the closest available trouble.

Yep, definitely the same tingles. This means, to her very clear-headed thinking, that an adventure is about to begin.

She still hears his voice. Rose. It’s a soft exhale in her ear, his limbs tangled with hers, his fingers cool against her scalp as he strokes her hair. Rose. Like their last night before Canary Wharf, full of slow, shared breath and touching lips. Bodies curved together like a fortress, fending off the besieging lies of the beast in the pit.

Rose.

He’s found a way through. He’s found a way to bring her home to the TARDIS — of course he has, because he’s the Doctor. It’s what he does, the impossible man in his impossible box.

Her mum has a deathgrip on her hand, which isn’t helping the tingles. Afraid to let go. Always afraid to let go. But Jackie hasn’t argued this time, not once. She’s got Pete and the baby, she’s got responsibilities in this universe, and Rose has responsibilities with the Doctor, and both women understand each other. Jackie will let go when the time comes.

Rose leans over to Mickey, sitting beside her in the backseat. Bouncing beside her, really, on this godforsaken road. “Sure you don’t want to come with, Mick? I know the Doctor won’t mind.”

He gives her a tight smile and shakes his head. “Nah. Can’t leave my Gran.”

From the front seat, Pete announces, “We’re here.”

It’s a cold, gray beach, full of chattering gulls and pounding surf. Empty. But his voice is still there, somehow, whispering across her mind like fingers stroking skin. Goosebumps prick her from scalp to toes and she closes her eyes. The roar of the ocean almost sounds like the thrumming pulse of the TARDIS.

She opens her eyes and grins at Jackie. “I don’t know why I bothered to pack my bag. Everything I need is already with him, anyway.” Her toothbrush drying in the cup beside his sink, her trainers gathering dust under his bed.

She leaves her suitcase in the car. There are goodbyes. Hugs and tears, promises to keep safe.

Rose walks to the middle of the empty beach, alone, and waits for him.

Home.







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Gallifrey Burning

This is not a spoiler-free blog.

Texan. Whovian. Whedonite. Trekkie. 'Scaper. All-around geek.

In real life, I occasionally exchange words for money. Online, I sail many ships, and angst is my North Star. I write fic and I tag like it's the end of the world.

Burn, baby, burn.

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